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Snippet – Amber Ruin

Amber Ruin is coming in October and I thought I’d give you a little glimpse into what is coming. Enjoy!

Patrick stood in our shared closet, lost. His back straight and his fingers walking across hangers, I could hear him mumbling to himself but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. I sat on the floor with my back against the wall next to the door to our walk-in closet. Watching. This was fascinating. From the moment I’d met him, Patrick had always been perfect. He’d looked like GQ come to life and this flustered side of him was . . . cute.

“Figured it out yet?” I asked, not able to keep the smile from my lips.

“No,” he grumbled, running his hand through his thick, onyx hair. “What should I pack for this type of event?” he asked, frustration finally bleeding through.

“Jeans,” Dean called from our bedroom. He also sounded frustrated. That’s all Dean owned was jeans. Oh sure, he had a suit or two for meetings, but that was it. The moment the meeting was over, he was back in jeans and a t-shirt.

“That isn’t very helpful,” Patrick snorted.

Getting to my feet, I took the several steps to close the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his waist. I breathed in his scent of death, blood, and mysteriously . . . old books. Something in my brain clicked home. He stroked his fingers along my arm and his body relaxed against me. “You’ll be fine,” I whispered, understanding the underlying problem that he didn’t want to voice. Being mystically married, I got a little extra insight to the men I loved that normal humans didn’t get. It was really helpful to be able to see inside their soul and know what they were feeling, what they weren’t saying. Shit, I was married. Mystically or not. Sometimes it just hit me, a bolt of lightning to the brain. I was married.

Busy. Busy. Busy.

Too. Busy. For. ANYTHING!

My To Do List:

  • one book to write,
  • one book to edit,
  • seven books to review for the prism,
  • blogs to write,
  • a newsletter to write
  • a party to plan
  • a vacation to Disney to plan – okay, I secretly love this one
  • a kid that starts soccer tomorrow,
  • a house to clean,
  • dinners to make,
  • a full-time job,
  • and just about everything else you can imagine.

If you were looking for some witty repertoire or anecdote about how awesome I am . . . cause I am . . . then you are sadly mistaken.

I just don’t have it this week.

Instead, you get a free snippet from the upcoming Amber Ruin. Congratulations!

“You’re definitely getting a treat later,” I whispered. Q’ursha yipped in agreement and I gave him another scratch.

“Should I be jealous?” Dean teased.

“Dunno yet,” I said with a sly grin and Dean growled in response.

Dali reached beneath her cloak and drew out what appeared to be a feather. Long, about the length of my arm and just as wide, the plume was a rich deep red, softening to orange around the edges. Black accents in a constant pattern along the plume made the color dynamic and there at the tip, was the briefest flash of gold. Not yellow or even wheat. It glimmered. The feather was tipped with actual gold.

“What is that?” Isidro asked, a definite tone of awe to his words. The fae could do that, dangle something before you that was so beautiful you’d forget the darkness that lingered beneath the surface to swallow you whole.

“The feather of the Paskunji,” she answered, her voice just as reverent. Whatever this Paskunji was, Dali was just as impressed as Isidro was which wasn’t a good sign.

“Okay,” I said, staring at the woman, not daring to take the feather from her hand until she made it completely necessary. I’m not sure why I was so reluctant to take it from her but I knew in my gut that once I did, there was no going back.